


The Hunter and the Prey

by naotalba



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-05
Updated: 2007-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naotalba/pseuds/naotalba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. William Turner knows a thing or two about about being pursued by her husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunter and the Prey

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://p0wdermonkey.livejournal.com/profile)[p0wdermonkey](http://p0wdermonkey.livejournal.com/) as a reward for her participation in the [Bribes for Concrit](http://naotalba.livejournal.com/10173.html) request.
> 
> Beta: [](http://justawench.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://justawench.livejournal.com/)**justawench** , who is amazing, by the way.  
> Thanks also to [](http://teenybuffalo.livejournal.com/profile)[**teenybuffalo**](http://teenybuffalo.livejournal.com/) for concrit on [](http://rough-magic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://rough-magic.livejournal.com/)**rough_magic**. Remaining errors are mine.  
> 

Bill never understood that it was harder to be the seduced than the seducer. Kay had led him on a merry chase for months; Bill was utterly shocked when she admitted that she had planned to marry him years before he looked in her direction. But Kay knew that if she had come out and told him she was interested, he would have avoided her entirely, or worse yet, gone for a quick tumble and then back to sea, never to be seen again.

When Kay finally admitted to her scheming, he had chuckled, that unfamiliar noise she heard so rarely, and called her names, temptress, seductress, wicked wanton. She had thrown a pillow, laughed, and explained. Men don't want to know that the lady is interested; they want to hunt, to succeed against the odds. And sometimes it is very hard to sit back and be prey.

In the end, her plan had succeeded, not that it stopped him from returning to sea. At least this way, she got the occasional letter, and better yet, visits home once a year or so. It wasn't until his third visit after their marriage that Bill was comfortable enough with her to tell her true stories of his adventures, and even then, she suspected they were heavily edited. She filled in the blanks in her own mind, hiding the smile at the innocence Bill supposed she still possessed after four years of marriage.

Bill swore he missed Kay every single minute he was away from home, missed her and thought about her and told her stories in his head and tried to save them away to remember for her when he was in port again. Kay believed him, but didn't think or even hope that she was the only one in his thoughts. She had little Will, and he was her world when Bill was out to sea; she expected that Bill occupied himself differently. Her father was a sailor, and her grandfather before him; Kay knew what a small place a wife held in a sailor's life, and enjoyed her place without trying to exceed it.

Once Will was kissed and petted and sent off to his aunt's, Kay got to enjoy her husband's company once more. Afterwards, they lay curled together, and quiet Bill spilled his stories he'd saved, his voice rough with talking so much more than he was accustomed to.

Bill told her the story of a new cabin boy, slender and coiled as rope. He annoyed the crew with birdlike movements, poking his nose into everything until he answered as readily to "Sparrow" as to his name. He claimed to be lately the captain of the _Barnacle_ , and it was a sure thing that he at least believed it, for all he was 15 or 16 years old.

Kay imagined the boy, quick and bright with eyes nearly black, and thick dark hair. He must have been quite the looker to have captured Bill's attention so.

Bill fumbled at bit, realizing suddenly that he was not going to able to say anything further that would be "appropriate for a lady." Kay glared until he continued.

His first night aboard, the boy slung his hammock next to Bill's with a grin, eye contact held just a bit too long. Bill turned toward the hull and went to sleep, letting his back convey his response. Come to find out in the morning, the lad should have known better; Smitty had warned him straight off that if he was looking to make a deal for a protector, Bootstrap was the wrong man to look to. Every man jack of the crew knew who would wait for port and who wouldn't, and Bill Turner had always waited.

Of course, Smitty no doubt said it with a gleam that made it clear just who he would suggest as a better choice for the protector of a green lad. Smitty being noticeably pox-ridden, perhaps the boy didn't give the information credit, or just wanted to spite the man.

Kay took a long look at her husband. Bright green-blue eyes, strong capable hands, and the slow voice of a man who knew what he was about. She couldn't imagine a better protector herself, and likely the boy thought his failure to molest was an added bonus. Perhaps it never occurred to Bill that being the one man on board that would protect the lad without requiring unspeakable acts in payment might be a bonus.

Within a week or two, Bill got tired of the ribbing from the rest of the crew. Having never succumbed to the temptation of "that sort of thing," he'd never endured the accompanying teasing, and it was bad enough that he wished he'd at least earned it. But the lad did nothing more than chirp his ears off in the bunk next to him, and flit around with his gestures far too expansive for the tiny area between their hammocks.

Kay laughed long and loud at Bill's inability to say the word 'buggery.' He could talk about, even contemplate it if she was reading between the lines correctly, but not say the word. Poor Bill, as embarrassing as the teasing must have been, telling her the story must be doubly so.

Bill ended the story with a plea for her to be very visible at the dock in the morning when they shoved off, and a look in his eyes that added a request for her to look well loved, and mournful at the loss of his company. That was done easily enough.

When they arrived at the ship in the morning, Bill was immediately called aboard to oversee the stowage of cargo, and Kay nearly left then. She caught sight of a figure striding toward her, though, and waited to hear what he had to say.

She was right; the boy was beautiful. He was also swaying like a sloop in a high wind, and appeared to be holding on to thin air for balance.

"You are of course the lovely Mrs. Bootstrap, is that right?"

"Bootstrap! He told me that was his nickname, but I'd forgotten. I suppose that would make me Mrs. Bootstrap, yes."

"I thought perhaps that I could get the story straight from the horse's mouth, as it were, which is not to say that you are a horse, of course, you being not in the least bit horse-like, in fact more of a-"

"Maybe you'd better get to the point, lad."

"It's me first time aboard a ship as crew and not captain, and Bill's been lending me a hand. He talks about you a lot, well when he talks at all that is, and I thought perhaps you could suggest a way to show my appreciation."

Kay took another look at Sparrow, who held the eye contact more steadily than he did anything else. Not as much of a scoundrel as he appeared, then.

"You are doing an admirable job of that already, Mr. Sparrow. Just return him to me in the same fine condition I left him in."

She caught Bill’s eye on the deck, nodded once, and walked away from the dock without a second glance.

\---

Bill's next visit in port was nearly two years later. Will didn't remember him at all, was happy enough to be packed off to Aunt Mary's, and Kay tried not to think about how little that seemed to bother Bill.

A quiet dinner, a long slow swive, and then the part that Kay lived for. Bill's voice rumbling next to her ear, telling her tales of dolphins swimming alongside the ship, and mermaids being spotted far off, and a wicked fight that ended with a knife in Smitty's ribs. The things that happened to Bill didn't seem real to him until he'd shared them with someone, she thought.

When she had nearly drifted off, he began a different kind of story, his voice nearly too low to hear. Bill must have thought she was already asleep; he would never be this open with her. She kept her body still and her breathing steady, listening to her husband spill his heart.

\---  
__  
He asked me about my nickname, the first night out after my last visit home.

"They call me that because if I fall, I pick myself up by my own bootstraps - I don't need another man's hand to pick me up."

"So, you like the feel of your own hand, then?" he says, cheeky little bastard.

"Better that than to rely on a hand that won't always be there when I need it," I tell him, and turn my back to him. Here I am, with this lad beside me clearly waiting to be seduced, and I all I can think of is you telling me how hard it is to be the prey and not the hunter.

And I put my hand on his back, and his skin is so warm, I can almost feel the texture of it through his shirt.

He's so beautiful, Kay, so beautiful. His hands, they move all the time, so you can't see how long and graceful they are, until he’s moving them on you, and all those fluttery little movements are teasing you until you can't bear it. And his cock, my god. It's not that much bigger than mine, but on his slender little form, it's obscene, is what it is. And those eyes, the way he just looks at me with my cock in his mouth, I forget to pay attention to what his mouth is doing, just spill from the look in his eyes.

For all his boldness, it took me weeks to get into that little round bum of his. He tried to top me, can you believe that? He'd never been buggered before, shaking like a leaf, all the while airily insisting that he found the whole thing a bit boring. And the bunk stinks of rancid whale oil, and Smitty's in the next bunk over sure to wake up any minute, but then I slide in, and he's the only thing in the world. His tight little bunghole choking my tarse, and his little sounds, and that shivering that isn't fear anymore. I bit him so hard when I came I drew blood, I think.

He lets me tell him about you, you know. He pouts a bit, if I try to make too much of you, but he listens to my stories, all the same. And he's crazy as a loon, and the other men are going to kill him one day, I think, and I don't care.

I love you, Kay. Sleep well, my dear.

\---

She tries to take some comfort in it, that Bill's happy with Sparrow when he's away. When she gets word the next year, that their ship been attacked by pirates, and whispers that some of the men joined the pirate crew, she doesn't try to investigate. She tells little Will his father is a merchant sailor, and a good man, and he never comes back to gainsay her.  
\---

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a bit of silliness- a conversation about the writing process when I was struggling with this fic: 
> 
> I've never written an original character before, and since I make fun of Mary Sues all the time, I suspect that karma is going to catch up with me here. 
> 
> I don't like cheaters, though, so for me to write a married character having sex with someone else, I prefer that the spouse be okay with it. So that means Will's mom is in the story, and she and I are in a wrestling match right now.
> 
> Will's mom: I have piercing green eyes and flaming red hair.  
> Me: Nope. Brown, and brown. Like Will.  
> Will's mom: I'm slender, yet voluptuous.  
> Me: Rubenesque, actually. And I'm being kind here.  
> Will's mom: I get to have hot threesomes with Jack and Bill.  
> Me: In your dreams.  
> Will's mom: My name is Anastacia Destiny Trixiebell Depp.  
> Me: I'm thinking Kay. After my grandmother.  
> Will's mom: I'm a pirate wench, and a governor's daughter.  
> Me: You're a stay at home mom, and a fisherman's daughter.  
> Will's mom: *pouts*  
> Me: But I'll let you narrate.  
> Will's mom: That's really nice, but how am I going to see what they get up to on the ship?  
> Me: Good question.


End file.
